


Contingencies

by Davechicken



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxiety, Coping Mechanisms, M/M, PTSD, post fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: There are changes to the bookshop, after the - you know - fire.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 132





	Contingencies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UlsPi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/gifts).



The changes were subtle. Aside from the different books on his shelves, and the - well - matching black snake-handled mug that magically appeared when his shop was remade… those things were, almost certainly, Adam’s work.

But the once-Antichrist had not been interfering since. And only one other being would ever dare make changes to Aziraphale’s shop, even if he would strenuously avoid the question if it was posed. 

Crowley told him about the safe he’d put in, though. That thing he’d admitted. “Just in case, angel.”

In case of ‘what’ was unspoken but understood. 

But there was the coat and hat stand. With the umbrella. The umbrella which contained a thin sword, like those old fashioned spy yarns the demon was so fond of (and which Aziraphale begrudgingly admitted were, indeed, ingenious. If a little contrived). 

There was the mirrors that were antique and looked like they had always been there, but which hadn’t. And which now gave Aziraphale a view all around the shop, should he need it. Into blind spots, around corners. The angel had refused the suggestion of an electronic surveillance option and, soon after, this alternative had turned up.

Subtle things. _Contingencies_.

Several new fire extinguishers. That was less subtle. He had, of course, kept to any health and safety regulations, as well as all the proper tax returns, since he’d opened the business. But every few months or so, there’d be another extinguisher. As he was sure they didn’t breed, his friend was very obviously turning the shop into a fortress against emergencies of the angelic-demonic and/or flammable varieties.

Aziraphale was both touched, and concerned. Pleased that Crowley so obviously cared (as if that was ever in doubt), but worried that his demon was now anxious and if he could alleviate that or not. He briefly considered offering to put a sprinkler system in, until he remembered that sometimes toast and other things gave off smoke, and sprinklers didn’t know better than to ruin good books. 

So he decided to leave it unspoken, until Crowley was ready. That was, until he caught him red (green?) handed.

Carrying a pot. With. A small palm tree in.

Which? Seemed to be rather incongruous. 

Crowley startled, and after a flinch of trying to appear invisible behind the comically thin plant, he offered an unpleasant smile.

“Angel.”

“Crowley.”

“You didn’t have enough… plants.”

“I don’t have any, other than the succulent you told me I couldn’t possibly kill.”

“You still nearly killed it,” Crowley growled. “You over-watered it.”

“I didn’t want it to be thirsty!”

“It was an air plant! So you didn’t need to do anything!”

“But it looked thirsty!” Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. This is very kind. Is it a--”

“Yeah. Dates. It’ll be a while before it’s useful. But you used to - well. I thought it might be ni--- uh, g-- uh… here.” He shoved the plant into Aziraphale’s arms. “Read the instructions.”

“Oh, I will,” he said, after examining the very verdant leaves.

But Crowley was already making a bee-line for the door.

It wasn’t until later that Aziraphale finally closed up and put the pot on the end of his desk (temporarily) whilst he read about the best temperature and lighting aspect to keep it, and the water requirements, and--

Oh. His finger stalled on a note. Re-grows after fire.

That oddly hurt more than any of the other things. Aziraphale hadn’t seen the shop as Crowley had, and he was glad about that. Maybe he should install one of those smoke alarms, visibly, to put the demon’s mind at rest that he was taking this seriously. 

Stopping these reactions wouldn’t help. But maybe he could begin to unpick the fear with him, and find a way to reduce the anxiety. If it meant some ugly plastic on the wall for a few centuries, he would live with that.


End file.
